i wote this a while ago after a fight that began as an attempt to fix a previous fight in a string of many fights:
i apologized. i was nice. i was the adult version of me, i made a conscious effort to be. i was silly, i was loving. and i didn’t mean anything bad… at all. i promise. i wasn’t in a hissy fit. i changed the subject. i talked about stuff other than ‘us’ or ‘fighting’. i was trying to show him. i was trying to get back on track.
we’d just been through the worst weekend trip ever. our relationship was long distance and we were making it work. haven’t having seen each other in 17 days, we were having a quick 48 hour visit. those are a lot of pressure. cuz you want it to go well. you have high expectations. and there’s no real-time for error. this trip didn’t go well. it started on a bad foot, thanks to my insecurities. you wanna know what i did? i shouldn’t tell you. i should save face. but i’ll tell you. i got pissed at him because a girl i cannot STAND and is known to be TROUBLE followed him on instagram. but that’s not why i went ballistic. i went ballistic cuz he followed her BACK. i’m not proud of this behavior, but i’m sure my honesty is appreciated and my behavior (however lame) is relatable. this petty, completely unneccessary fight that i started took us on a mutual journey to a million other arguments about issues we have. realer issues. or i should say, REAL issued. our main issue being not hearing each other, making up our own narratives, getting defensive, and just being bad at communicating. or more specifically: we communicate in different ways. in hind sight, our MAIN MAIN MAIN issue being the long distance, the pressure of quick visits, his emotional unavailability and my trust/deep-rooted daddy issues… but back to the story.
i went home. and it stung. it was heavy. i felt relieved to be home, but so lonely. i felt like i’d just lived a nightmare. it was over? already?! what the fuck just happened? a bad 48 hours, and that’s it? was it ruined? but i loved him. and that doesn’t happen all the time. it’s rare. for me anyway.
i could feel this was about more than just the bad 48hrs; it was the culmination of every fight we’ve ever had. he’d hit his limit. and i had too. could this be fixed? if i just acted nice and cool the next time i saw him, would it erase this horrible blip? if i stopped trying to ruin it; if i stopped getting defensive, if i dropped it, if i was just lighter- could we be okay? i loved so many things about him. i was willing to just start fresh the next time i saw him. i wasn’t sure if he was.
the next day we spoke. for two hours. i was calm. i apologized. i wanted to make it better, i swear.
in my heart- my only intention/the only things i wanted him to know were these: i love him, i want him to move to la because i love him so much, i would marry him if he wanted me to, i would have a child with him,
i just love him and want him to be happy and i want him to live with me in los angeles. only good things.
how this hopeful conversation turned bad, i don’t know. but it did.
so now, while he’s at his house, far away from me. and i’m at mine… the thing that worries me most is our problem communicating.
if all i meant/was trying to express to him/ had in my heart was that i want him with me, that i love him and i’m sorry… how did he still end up taking me the worst way, and sounding exhausted by me when i tried my hardest to make it clear i didn’t mean anything bad at all, and apologized profusely?
are the wounds of our weekend fight still too fresh and that’s what this is about? or will we always have miscommunications that turn into two people hurt and exhausted?
tonight, i tried to tell him he’s the love of my life… but i was terrified and way too shy. but i tried. i think i actually even told him. so how did this phone call go bad? i guess he couldn’t hear my apologies or he needs more time to believe them. if he ever does.
i love him so much, but he didn’t hear me.
but i guess i deserve that, because he loved me and i couldn’t hear him either. i swear, we’ve been on the same page at the same time sometimes. i swear.
could we overcome our bad communication? could love be stronger than that?
and as for this journal entry: i hope he doesn’t view it as an attack. and instead see’s it as the love letter it’s meant to be.
i’m totally scared of dating again. aside from the obvious fear of ego wars, being rejected, and living in the unknown; more specifically, i’m terrified of getting an std. terrified. i’ve come this far without getting warts, syphilis, hpv, herpes, having an abortion, or ANYTHING… and i don’t want to start NOW. i wonder how many people i’ve given blowjobs to and had sex with in the past who had herpes, but i didn’t know cuz they didn’t tell me, and i didn’t get it. and now that i’m older, i’ve begun asking people point-blank if they have any sexually transmitted diseases, and when i boldly ask… they boldly tell me the truth. and sometimes the truth is ‘yes’, which is a very brave thing to come out and say. it’s what they should do. it’s a very personal, vulnerable thing to share and i totally respect them for it… but it makes me want to run in the other fucking direction as quickly as possible.
as quickly as i’d asked, i’ll have wished i hadn’t… because now i have all the information at my disposal. and there’s something to be said for ‘ignorance is bliss’ i mean, at least until you find out you caught something. and while i’m totally able to separate my affection and fondness and respect for a person, from my fear of their std, it still weighs on me. cuz as much as i am attracted to someone who might have something, my main priority is to protect myself. i’m all for being sympathetic and empathetic and i know life happens and this is life and std’s are very common and happen, but at the same time, to have casual sex and risk getting herpes from someone who isn’t even going to be a potential boyfriend and who will never, could never love me… well, that’s too big a risk to take.
i have friends with oral herpes aka hsv 1 (cold sores that break out on and around their mouth) and i have friends with hsv 2 aka genital herpes – both suck. both have stigmas. obviously genital herpes sounds worse and have a worse stigma cuz it’s a break out on your private and for women who have it, it can also affect your baby when giving birth in the future. and while you can at least, more casually, refer to oral herpes/hsv 1 as ‘cold sores’ and they are more common cuz you can get infected with that as a kid, from kissing or sharing drinks… it still sucks cuz they are outbreaks on your face and both forms are extremely contagious. you could have an oral outbreak (or not), go down on someone and give them hsv 1 on their genitals. or you could go down on someone and get hsv 2 on your mouth if THEY have genital herpes. and people can pass the virus through ‘shedding’ while they aren’t even having a breakout. it’s all so terrifying to me.
i’ve asked my gynecologist all about it and done so much research because i am an anxious, obsessing, over thinking, worrier and i like being that way. i like caring and getting all the information, so that i can protect myself as best as possible. she told me that if people with hsv 1 or 2 were to take a low dose of valtrex on a daily basis, they could significantly reduce transmission of the virus. it reduces ‘shedding’ of the virus and it lessons the chance of a potential outbreak. but when i tell my friends who have the herps, i don’t think they believe me, or want to take a pill everyday. but why? just take it! if not just to prevent your own potential outbreak, but to protect the people you hook up with. smoking, stress, drug use, anything that compromises your immune system, and even the onset of your period also increases your chances of having an outbreak. that’s why it’s important to take vitamins that strengthen your immune system, not smoke or do drugs, and keep your stress level down. i tell my friends all these things, but then i get labeled as ‘freaking out’ or ‘obsessive’. well, i gladly accept these labels.
i don’t know what’s worse, to not have herpes and live in fear of getting it, or to be on the other side and already have it and no longer have to live in fear of getting it – but then you’d have to worry about break outs, telling someone you have it, and possibly infecting someone. unless you decide not to tell at all. but that would be a really horrible thing to not do. i suppose in either case, you can decide if you want to ‘worry’ about any of it. all i know is that i don’t have anything yet, and i do live in fear about it when sex is concerned.
the fact that there is NO CURE for herpes is terrifying, not to mention the social stigma attached to it. a stigma that makes you seem dirty and makes people scared. and overall, it all just seems like a painful hassle, headache that would make life more complicated. i already had cancer when i was in my early twenties. i don’t want anymore hassles or responsibility or things to worry about. i already have that when it comes to making a living, maintaining my friendships, trying to make my dreams come true, not getting pregnant, avoiding moving violations, and falling in love. dating and meeting new people is hard enough without having to pick up ointment and keep a shameful secret.
and why does it seem like women are the only ones who get tested? why does it seem like girls are the only ones who are mindful and responsible when it comes to going to the doctor? men seem to only run to a doctor when it’s too late and there’s a sore on their dick or ooze pouring out of some orifice. it doesn’t have to be like that. men are the ones who don’t carry condoms to put over their dick; men are the ones who say ‘i hate wearing a condom. i cant feel anything.’. if they would just get regular check ups and blood tests after each sexual partner, or even just every month or two, and stopped thinking about only their dicks comfort, maybe stds wouldn’t spread as easily. i’m not saying it’s all mens fault; and i know i get tested more than most people, cuz i’m hyper health conscious and lucky enough to have health insurance, but you don’t need health insurance to get tested. and to be concerned about your health and others doesn’t make you neurotic, it makes you mindful and respectful of your body and the person you choose to link yourself to physically.
and if it seems like i’m man bashing, i’m not – but here’s what i do know from talking to men and women and doctors and people of all ages, genders, shapes, sizes, ethnicities, and sexual orientations, etc… that the general consensus is: men hate going to the doctor and wearing condoms. case closed. this is a very general statement, but one that is more true than not.
ugh. life! insert emoji of a girl in pink throwing her arms up in a flurry of a huff.
and ps: because i do ask people/strangers about their opinion on herpes, and sex, and their fear of it all – can i tell you something horrific i’ve heard people say (mainly teenagers, but adults as well) on MORE than one occasion? i’ve heard people say ‘i dont have herpes, i’m white.’ wtf?! well you are in for a rude awakening you small-minded racist bonehead. white people get herpes too. jesus fucking christ! what is wrong with people?!
fuck, when i start having sex again, i might start taking preventative valtrex to protect myself from getting something. and yes, i already intend on having protected sex. but i think the smarter thing for me would be to only enter into a sexual relationship with someone i could be in a real relationship with. as obvious as that seems, it’s a big step for me, as i’m a person who loves sex and does what she feels and wants to do. prior to my last relationship, i had sex here and there with people i liked, but it wasn’t serious. and that was a blast. you could label me as ‘promiscuous’ or ‘slutty’ but that’s such a lame, misogynistic, unfair, gender stereotype. men can do whatever they want, but if a woman has sex like a man does, cuz she wants to, cuz she can, MEN and girls who don’t know better call her a slut. well fuck off, and grow up.
however, nowadays, i do think it’s important to know why you make the decisions you do. i think it’s important to be conscious of your decision-making and to not be acting out of fear or some sort of subconscious, unhealthy, untrue belief system or sense of obligation; to think you must do something to please someone else, or because you think this is what you have to do because it’s all you can do, or what you’re supposed to do, or you deserve this. if you can really have a frank discussion with yourself and know why you choose what you choose, or why you want to do something: that’s awesome.
anyways, here’s to being single, making healthy choices, being careful, and playing the game of sexual russian roulette. good luck everyone. xo
for a second i was in love. it was really real. it was intense. i was in a safe pocket. we had created a world where only the two of us existed. we were in the bubble. that’s a term i use when i’m referring to a love bubble: a space that exists only for the two people who are madly in love with one another. it’s invisible, but you can feel it… at least the two people inside of it can. it surrounded us. we were safe in its protection, until it burst. while we were in the bubble, whether near or far, we checked in with one another. we were so connected. he mattered to me. i mattered to him. such an extreme sense of belonging. now there’s an opening where he used to be. my vagina. just kidding. how dare you. too easy. one day maybe i won’t make those obvious misogynist jokes. but i’m my father’s daughter, so it’s difficult. anyways, there’s a metaphoric opening. now i wander alone again. yeah, my life is full with friends and goals and work and hobbies and projects. but there’s always time and room for the kind of love i just lost. until then, i’ll stay busy, until i’m lucky enough to live in the bubble again. xx
me: will you tell me your theory about what women want vs what men want? i thought it was so interesting.
him: men want the vulnerability of what their mother’s gave them. a safe place where all mistakes are forgiven and all burdens are shared if not taken away completely. it’s messed up because women want the strength their fathers gave (or didn’t give) them. they don’t want a boy who is vulnerable, they want a man who will take care of shit the way their father did. they want their man to carry it all on the inside so that they feel safe and protected, the way their father’s made them feel (hopefully). so therefore, a man never gets what he naturally wants. he has to play a part. i worked all this out when i had a daughter and realized how unconditional my love was for her, and then i realized that she would be seeking that forever… from boys who just want a shoulder to cry on. just watch madmen. the writing on that show is so real to me. such a great character. men love that show because they see a lot of themselves in his character; the same way women did with sex & the city and those four characters. you know, the era of the show, the 60’s or whatever and the cute throwback moments are just icing on the cake. the real genius is in the complexity of his character. men really were never portrayed as that complex before. don’t you think?
do you agree or disagree with this? please respond in the comments section below. i’m dying to hear your thoughts! xx
so once again, i’m going through a break up. this one is different though, and i’ll tell you why: this relationship wasn’t one i was done with. for me, there was so much more to do and experience with him. before i go any further, my ego is demanding i mention that i wasn’t broken up with. no, it was my decision. it could have continued how it was going: long distance. but it wasn’t working for me anymore. it was becoming too disruptive to my life, but i would have continued had there been a plan or a promise of something changing in the future. but this was not the case. and so, in an attempt to protect and take care of myself and be an adult, recognizing something being ‘off’ and not ignoring the red flags… i had to walk away. it’s not easy, and it’s painful and it’s soul crushing. but, now i have to remind myself of how to be on my own again. how to be single again. how to be happy and ‘ok’ with that again. one thing i know is that i’m gonna try it a new way this time. and i’ll tell you what that means in a moment.
i have nothing bad to say about my most recent boyfriend. he is a magical, kind being. quite possibly the kindest, most precious, gentle guy i’ve ever known. but for reasons i’ll keep to myself, which i’ve already blabbed about enough with him, my best friends, my therapist, my mom, and my podcast listeners – it can’t be. i want to say ‘it cant be, right now.’ but that would mean i’m holding onto false hope. and i don’t want to expect anything. i’d rather be happily surprised if it works out in the future.
i’m mourning the death of my relationship with my best friend. someone i’ve become addicted to and used as a grounding source.
when i say, i’ll be trying it (single life) a new way in the future, i mean this: i will be very particular and choosy and protective of myself. i won’t give myself away so easily to men who put their attention on me. not at all. it’s as if during the experience of this relationship i grew up and learned to treasure/respect myself more. this person i loved and will always love (even if i do experience pangs of feeling extremely let down & disappointed by him cuz he didn’t have it in him to go the extra mile and take a chance to see how far we could take the potential of this really special relationship) treated me beautifully. he made me coffee in the morning, has strong morals, made me feel undeniably safe in the sense that he would never cheat, respects women, is thoughtful, kind, sent me flowers, held the door, we were vulnerable together, we sung songs, i forced him out of his shell, etc. we had so much fun together – no matter what we did, or where we traveled. holding hands walking down the street in silence. it all felt like we were in our own bubble. it has never stopped feeling that way. all the way up to the day i last said goodbye to him, watching him leave my apartment.
and even though he is essentially unavailable, i know he loved me as much as he could love anyone. i know this. and now i value myself so much more after being treated so beautifully. i can only hope to find someone as kind, and talented, and thoughtful, and interesting, and fascinating, and beautiful to me as i did him. so if nothing else, while i cry and mourn the death of this magical exciting experience i had… i’m very thankful to have had it.